• to all the dead little girls inside of us and the insecurities that came with what we are now •
。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。
Maybe it was because they shared a favorite pastry, or because she was confused about why he glided around like a silent shadow, but La...
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I am a jerk. Well, most of the time.
For example, that girl at the café. That made a super good lemon pie, by the way. I didn't reply to her question because 1. a guy was looking at me strangely, and 2. who asks a question like that to a person you met less than a second ago?
So, back to the subject; for the first minutes of my new college, I had made myself the reputation of being a jerk. I mean, what was I supposed to do with the girls throwing themselves at me while I walked through the corridor. Quite literally speaking, because a girl was, supposedly pushed against me in a way that made me see more of her cleavage than I ever wanted to see.
Valerio, my half brother, of a few months was laughing his head off while I was trying to fend off the shameless bimbos.
"You've been in this school longer than I have and we are almost twins, so how the hell did you get them to stop going for you." I grumbled while excusing myself of a girl trying to follow us.
"It's easy. Get a girlfriend." I rolled my eyes, knowing that he never had one. "It just, gets old. You'll see."
"Well I hope it does soon. 'Cause I don't think I'll be able to live like this." I scowled.
"The Business Department is right here, see you mate!" He walked off, another trail of girls oozing at his sight.
I sighed. Probably the only difference between him and me was that he loved the spotlight, when I hated it. We both hated our dad, which was probably why we got along so well, and our mothers were dead, so.
Arriving in the amphi, I sat in one of the middle rows, on the edge of the table. A guy walked up to me, for no reason what so ever, and presented himself. "Hi, I'm Quentin. You must be one of the new guys. You can come to me if you ever need help with anything."
"No one would ever take advice from you, Fucker. They have me." I startled when I heard a voice on my left. "Hey, I'm Laur-" She blinked twice when she saw my face. Her bewilderment probably reflecting mine. "You're the rude guy!" Quentin sat down to her left and asked what was going on. "Remember that guy that bought the lemon pie and then left me hanging when I asked him a question. That's him."
"Oh, that guy."
" Listen, you probably have too much money to care about what I'm telling you, but, friendly piece of advice. Don't leave people hanging. It's very rude. By the way, you also left your phone at the bakery. It's still there though. I didn't think we'd meet here." She stared at me, expecting an answer.
"Okay. I'll pick it up tomorrow morning." I looked in front; the class hadn't started.
"Oh my god, do you realize it's the first ever sentence hear from your mouth." She smiled, a smile that showed just a bit of her teeth, but made her eyes almost close. A beautiful smile.
Throughout the class, I realised two things, hanging out with Quentin and Laura must be fun, but not in class. They were having a heated debate about some pastry. When I turned to them angrily, Laura shrugged, making her dark twists bounce at the movement. "Can you guys please shut up and focus?" I gritted out.
"Chill, geez." She rolled her eyes and stuffed her fist in her cheek. "We were debating which one is your favourite lemon pie. With meringue, or simple."
I shook my head in utter disbelief. "Come on, have fun, you stuck up human being." I looked at her confused.
"She uses it as an insult." Quentin quipped behind her.
She let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on, just tell us what is your favourite type of lemon pie."
"The merengued one was my mom's favourite." She used to bake it all the time, when we were younger, for me, Valerio and Leo and Elina, my cousins. "I still love it know."
Laura looked at me, her dark eyes boring holes into my skull before giving me a hug. Mostly trying to figure out how to give me one before passing her arm in my neck. " You said 'was' so I assumed she passed."
"She did, but she's in a better place. Where Quentin wouldn't be dancing around." She turned her head sharply, the feeling of her fingers tingling on the base of my neck.
"Why did you say meringue? I put 20 bucks and a pizza at Torrino's down the street for the fact that a sour lemon like you would go for lemon pie without meringue." She made a goofy smile that could warm up the coldest heart. "Geddit- sour lemon; lemon pie." She let out a small laugh. "I'm hilarious, I know." I chuckled.
That was the only conversation I had with them for the whole 2 hours of class, but I was glad that for once, I had talked to a girl that seemed genuinely interested in me. Not my money. Not my looks. Me. My feelings. .
Laura was the type of person that would make you feel good about yourself, with just a smile, and a compliment. She had a horrible sense of humour, though I think she did that on purpose, and uses it just to make people feel good. But I also know it's the type of people that absolutely loathe being a disappointment, and that, under all those layers off happiness, is someone different, off limits.
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You couldn't guess my bewilderment when both dragged me to the cafeteria. But the worst part was when Valerio waved me over, and Laura stopped, grinned then ran to jump into his arms yelling, "VAL! You didn't tell me you came back!"
